Rutland Place - Anne Perry [79]
“I think there are other calls it would be courteous for us to make while I am in the neighborhood,” Emily said. “Charlotte can remain here. Perhaps Mrs. Denbigh would care to come with me?” She spoke with exquisite ease. “I should be most happy for your company.”
Amaryllis’ eyes widened; obviously it was a contingency she had not foreseen, and she was about to protest, but Caroline grasped the opportunity.
“What an excellent idea.” She rose, straightening her skirts to make them fall elegantly behind her. “Charlotte will be delighted to remain here, and I shall accompany you so we may continue with our visiting. I am sure Ambrosine would be pleased to see us. You would be happy to do that, wouldn’t you, my dear?” She looked to Charlotte nervously.
“Of course,” Charlotte agreed quite sincerely. For once, Mina and the mystery surrounding her death were banished from her mind and she was aware only of Eloise. “I think that is most certainly what you should do. And it is only a step. I can quite easily walk back when it is time.”
Amaryllis stood a few moments longer, still trying to think of some acceptable excuse to stay, but nothing came to her and she was obliged to follow Emily out into the hallway as Caroline took her arm and walked with her, and the maid closed the door behind them.
“Don’t let her distress you,” Charlotte said to Eloise after a moment. She would not be fatuous enough to suggest that what was said was not meant. It was blindingly obvious that it had been fully intended. “I daresay the shock has affected her judgment.”
Eloise’s face shadowed with a ghost of humor, wraithlike and bitter.
“Her judgment, perhaps,” she answered. “But only insofar as previously she would have thought the same, whereas good manners would have prevented her from saying it.”
Charlotte slid more comfortably into her seat. Dr. Mulgrew might yet be some time.
“She is not the pleasantest of persons,” she observed.
Eloise met her eyes; for the first time she appeared actually to see her, not some inward scene of her own.
“You do not care for her.” It was a statement.
“Not a great deal,” Charlotte admitted. “Perhaps if I knew her better—” She left the suggestion as a polite fiction.
Eloise stood up and walked slowly over toward the French windows and stood facing the rain.
“I think a great deal of what we like about people is what we do not know but imagine to be there. That way we can believe the unknown is anything we wish.”
“Can we?” Charlotte looked at her back, very slender, with shoulders square. “Surely to continue to believe what is not true is impossible, unless you leave reality altogether and sink into madness?”
“Perhaps.” Eloise suddenly lost interest again and her voice was weary. “It hardly matters.”
Charlotte considered arguing, purely as a principle, but she was overwhelmed by the grief and futility that drowned the room. While she was still struggling to think of anything to say that had meaning, the parlormaid returned to announce that Dr. Mulgrew had arrived.
Shortly afterward, when the doctor was upstairs with Tormod and Eloise was waiting on the landing, the maid returned to ask Charlotte if she would receive Monsieur Alaric until Eloise should reappear.
“Oh.” She caught her breath. Of course it would be impossible to refuse. “Yes, please—ask him to come in. I am sure Miss Lagarde would wish it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The girl withdrew, and after a moment Paul Alaric appeared, soberly dressed, his face grave.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Pitt.” He showed no surprise, so he must have been forewarned of her presence. “I hope you are well?”
“Quite, thank you, Monsieur. Miss Lagarde is upstairs with the doctor, as I imagine you already know.”
“Yes, indeed. How is she?”
“Most terribly distressed,” she answered frankly. “I cannot remember having seen anyone look so shocked. I wish there was something we could say or do to comfort—it is frightening to be so helpless.”
She had been afraid, almost angry in anticipation of it, that he might say something trite, but